Picking Up the Pieces
by DangerMouse
Summary: Anya returns to the Magic Box after the events of 'Grave'. Mild Giles/Anya, slight mention of slash, nothing graphic.


A/N: The is very mild Giles/Anya and there is some mention of slash in the past. Nothing graphic, so I wouldn't worry too much about it. Have fun!

  


Picking Up the Pieces

by: dangermouse

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The sun seemed unusually bright as far as Anya was concerned, given all the drama that occurred the day before. She walked briskly down the street, her movements filled with purpose and a sense of confidence she didn't feel in her heart. All around her, oblivious mortals went about their daily routines, going to work, making money, and hating every minute of it. 

Anya didn't understand that at all. 

The Magic Shop came into view as she turned the corner, looking all the more worse for wear in the morning light than it had late yesterday afternoon. A quick fix of boarding up the holes to keep away burglars was all she could manage before she returned to the motel she was staying in and collapsed on the bed. She rarely got tired as a demon, but all that teleporting and bad-feeling emotions just drained her beyond measure. After a few hours of restless sleep, she'd left the motel, grabbing a cup of coffee on her way. Now she stood before the condemnable rubble that used to be her livelihood and sighed. 

She tapped the wooden boards where a door should have been and they immediately fell into the shop, a sign of her half-assed attempt at security. Stepping in and looking around, Anya determined that nobody actually broke in during the night, probably afraid the building would collapse on them if they did, a fear Any could understand as she looked up at the ceiling with it's nifty-new skylight, courtesy of Willow's fireball. Standing in the center of the shop, Anya gazed at the disaster around her, at a loss as to where to start. 

Nobody offered to help her. Sure, they were all grieving for Tara and trying to help Willow at the same time, but she'd suffered losses, too! And she liked Tara, she really did. That girl was one of her best customers. But no, they were all too worked up remising about the dead and wandering around trying to help the crazy when she had a crisis on her hands! She didn't even want to think about what her insurance company would say when she called in this one. Was Psycho Witch Damage even covered on her policy? 

"Should have gone with that Wolfram and Hart Insurance," she muttered darkly, stepping over debris as she attempted to reach the storage area where she kept the cleaning things. She pulled open the door, watching with a sense of apathy as it fell off its hinges and clattered to the floor. Taking out a broom, she turned back to the mess, then picked a corner with the fewest amount of large, heavy broken things covering it and began to sweep up the dust. 

Four hours later, Anya threw the broom to the floor with an anguished cry, reaching her hand up to tug at her hair in an attempt to keep the tears in her eyes from falling. 

"Demons do not cry," she whispered harshly to herself. "Demons do not cry!" 

"They do sometimes, I think." 

Anya spun around, looking for the source of the voice, then relaxed. Giles stood stiffly in the door of the shop, the light streaming around him. Anya raised an eyebrow at his entrance. 

"I thought you were passed out on Buffy's couch?" she asked, picking her way through the room toward Giles. 

"I was," he replied, also walking up to her. He reached down and picked up the broom, handing it back to the Vengeance Demon who gave him a little smile in return. "I needed to go for a walk. And I was wondering where you were." 

Anya looked down, picking despondently at the broom handle. "I needed to do something," she said simply after a moment. "All that sitting around feeling bad that humans do - I just don't understand it. I mean, people die everyday. Bad things happen every hour." She looked around the destroyed shop, then looked back at Giles. She met his eyes, oddly pleased that there was no disapproval there, only patience and understanding. 

"And you needed to fix something?" he asked. Anya nodded. 

"I can fix this," she told him. Looking back at the broom in her hand and the mess surrounding her, barely unchanged after four hours of work, she grimaced. "Or not." 

Giles gave her a weak smile. "It's pretty bad in here, isn't it?" he said easily, nodding in agreement. Giving another deep sigh, Anya rested the broom up against the counter, crossing her arms across her chest. 

"I don't know if it's worth it," she admitted, looking around once again. "It'll just get wrecked again. Then I'll have to fix it. Then it'll get wrecked again. It's an unending cycle. I don't like seeing the things I care about get destroyed over and over. I don't know if I can manage that." 

"I understand," Giles said. "It's a hard thing to deal with." 

"I just keep thinking I should be doing something else," Anya said, pacing through the rubble. "I mean, what do I really have here? My shop is gone, so I can no longer acquire money from paying customers. Xander and I are over and none of the others really like me all that much anyway. Why am I still hanging around?" 

"Maybe it's time you moved on," Giles offered. 

"You might be right," Anya said wearily. She picked up the broom and tossed it in the general direction of the closet. 

"Can I ask you a question?" Giles asked suddenly. Anya looked over at him. 

"Sure, I guess." 

"Why did you become a vengeance demon again?" Anya almost grinned in delight at the question. "What?" Giles asked, noticing the change in her demeanor. 

"No one's ever bothered to ask me that," she said, her eyes bright. Giles looked confused. 

"Why not?" 

"They've all assumed it's because of Xander," she began. 

"It isn't?" 

"Not really," Anya said, shaking her head. She paused, considering. "Well, it is," she amended, "but not for the reason they all think." She looked back at Giles, who nodded for her to continue. 

"After the wedding, Ta'hoffren let me come back with him to his dimension," she said, taking a seat on the countertop. "He's always been a bit of a father to me, seeing as how mine's been dead for centuries. He didn't pressure me to change back, if that's what you're thinking." 

"It wasn't, actually," Giles responded. Anya smiled, gathering her thoughts. 

"Anyway, I came to realize something after the wedding. For all these years, I've been trying to be something I'm not!" She took a deep breath, wiping her hand swiftly across her eyes. She looked up at the ex-watcher, defiant. "I'm a -demon-, Giles! I was only a human for twenty-two years, but I've been a demon for well over a thousand! It's who I am and it's not something I'm ashamed of." She lowered her eyes, her voice going softer. "Xander and the others... they made me feel ashamed. Like I used to be some horrible -thing- that they couldn't stand. They wanted me to change, to be more like them!" 

"But you're not," Giles said matter-of-factly, his eyes sympathetic. 

"No, I'm not," she affirmed, sliding off the countertop, walking back over to Giles. "I am a demon and I'm proud of it. It's what I am and if they can't accept it, then they're not really friends." Her eyes went wide and she clasped her hand over the pendent about her neck. "You aren't going to smash my power source again, are you?" she asked, her eyes narrowing. Giles laughed. 

"Only if my life depends on it," he assured her, still chuckling. "Every one should live as they choose." 

"Good," Anya said, dropping her hand back to her side. "I changed back because I was sick and tired of pretending to be something I'm not." 

"I understand completely," Giles said, his expression growing more somber. 

"I know you do," Anya replied, reaching out a hand to clasp Giles' arm. His hand covered her own and they stood in companionable silence. Suddenly, Anya furrowed her brow, pulling her hand away and crossing her arms over her chest. 

"There's something else I have to tell you," she said. Giles raised an eyebrow. 

"Oh?" he asked. 

"I had sex with Spike." Giles blinked at her for a second, then laughed. 

"Good Lord, who hasn't?" he replied, still snickering. 

"Xander hasn't," she said crossly. "I wanted him to, so I could watch, but he never did." Anya paused, reviewing Giles' statement in her head. "Wait, have you?" 

Giles stopped laughing and proceeded to look mildly embarrassed. "Uh, well, yes... you see," he began brokenly, "it was a bad night. I was bored and drinking and there he was, all chained up in my bathroom, taunting me and, uh, making rather lewd comments. One thing led to another and..." Giles trailed off and was surprised to see a look of admiration on Anya's face. He shouldn't have been surprised, but he was, none the less. 

"He's pretty amazing at it, isn't he?" she said, wistful. Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. "Would you and Spike have sex again so I could watch?" 

"Ah... well," Giles said uneasily, taking off his glasses to clean them. "Uh, I'm sure anything is possible." Sliding the spectacles back on his face, he darted his eyes around the room, trying to find some way to change the subject. "Ah, so, the shop's a lost cause then?" he asked, a little desperately. 

Anya chose not to comment on his avoiding the subject, an infuriatingly human response. Instead, she gazed once more at the rubble around her and nodded. "I think so," she said. 

Giles gave her a sad smile. "Why don't we get some lunch, then?" he offered. Anya nodded her consent and together, they picked their way to the front entrance of the shop. 

"So, you think I should move on?" she ask him as she stepped over a fallen beam. 

"I think you should do what makes you happy," he told her. They stepped out of the store and onto the sidewalk, Anya squinting against the bright light. 

"What's England like this time of year?" she asked suddenly. Giles turned to her, looking pleased. 

"Overcast," he replied. "Humid, gray, and probably raining." 

Anya shielded her eyes against the harsh California sun and gave Giles a dazzling smile. "Sounds perfect," she told him, taking his arm as they walked down the sidewalk, leaving the ruined shop far behind them. 

~The End~ 

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the story! Feedback taken with a big smile. 


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